Shades of Gray
by jennisagypsy
Summary: Sylar has learned the truth about his family, but perhaps not the whole truth. Enter Ayden James, a 17 year old girl immigrating to America from London. What connection does she have to Gabriel Gray? Read on and see.
1. Chapter 1: Little Ayden

Shades of Gray

By Jennifer M. Golden

Traffic was terrible. But of course, Ayden thought. What a wonderful "welcome back surprise." Welcome to bloody New York City. And to top it all off, Ayden was fairly certain that the cab driver had a limited knowledge of New York. He was probably an immigrant. Like Ayden, in a way.

Finally the rugged features of the building she was looking for came into view. "Pull over here, I can walk the rest of the way," she said. Opening her wallet she pulled out a couple U.S. bills that she gotten converted from pounds at JFK and handed them to the driver. For moving from the country she'd lived in her for most of her life, she had surprisingly little in the way of belongings. She pulled her measly little suitcase out of the trunk and carried it up the five stories to her motel room with relative ease. There'd be time for getting more belongings when she found a job and a place to live.

It was the strangest sensation, being here. In America, in the country she had lived in till she was about nine. She remembered her neighborhood in New Jersey, and the occasional trip to New York City. Her mother took her to see _Hairspray_ on Broadway once. Little Ayden was so happy then.

Her motel room was small, but Ayden didn't mind. After all it was temporary. And it was cozy, in a way. It was certainly better than some of the places she'd stayed at in London, before getting a one-way ticket for the states. Here, she at least had a room to herself. Much better than those hostels.

As it was, it had been an incredibly long day, and Ayden was ready to get some sleep. She made sure to double lock her door, pulled the curtains closed, and slipped under the scratchy covers of the twin bed, falling into a deep slumber.


	2. Chapter 2: Meet Mr Gray

(Note: I am writing in complete disregard of what has happened as of the season finale of season three. This will also prevent any spoilers from being revealed. Basically I'm changing what happened when Sylar found his real father, and thus changing what happened in Sylar's life afterwards. That episode is also where I derived the title from. Enjoy!)

Sylar drove into the dirt path leading to a shabby old trailer with one thing on his mind: vengeance. He opened the front door and was greeted by terrible wallpaper, a cracked ceiling, and an inordinate amount of dead stuffed animals. He remembered the sign outside Samson Gray's previous home reading that he was a taxidermist. That would explain the animals.

He made his way to a glass door in the back. A man sat at a desk working intently on some unseen project. Sylar knocked on the glass. "It's open," the man at the desk coughed. When he opened the door, Sylar was hit with a cloud of cigarette smoke. "Almost got the order ready. You have a lot of pickups today?"

"I'm not here for a pickup." Sylar responded.

"No?"

He shook his head. "It's me. Gabriel. Your son."

His father put down his tools. "Is that so?"

Sylar moved towards him. "That is so."

"What brings you all the way out here?"

"I had some questions about myself – who I am, where I came from. But then I remembered. You abandoned me. You killed my mother."

"So?" his father retorted. "What now?"

"Now?" Sylar smirked. "I kill you."

Samson Gray turned in his seat to face Sylar. "Go right ahead." He coughed, and Sylar saw the tube from the oxygen tank in his nose. Samson stood up. "You kill me, or the cancer does. Either way, I die." He paused, pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket. "I haven't got all day." He stuck a smoke in his mouth and lit it up.

(So this is a part of the season three episode "Shades of Gray" where Sylar meets his real father. So far everything has been written as it was in the episode. Things may change next chapter so stay tuned.)


	3. Chapter 3: The Last of Them

(I decided to take this story in a different direction then what I originally intended. Enjoy!)

Ayden had little patience for the small man behind the counter ranting condescendingly. He seemed determined to be sure that the teenager wouldn't make any noise whatsoever, lest she disturb the other residents of this small, cramped, less than desirable apartment building. After nodding "yes" several time and initialing several more times, she was begrudgingly handed the key to her new apartment. She climbed the three flights of stairs to her door and pushed the key in the lock.

"Oh my-" she gasped. This apartment was going to take a lot of work to be livable. It smelled, and looked, as if someone had died in there. Clearly, the superintendent wasn't planning on being responsible for his apartments. No matter. Ayden would have this place up and running before long.

______________________________________________________________________

It was the end of the line. Sylar had been looking for days now, for traces of who he was and where he came from. He had driven with the boy, Luke, who said he could find Sylar's father. He left that boy when he got the address. And now he was here, in Newark, New Jersey, deep in some wood, standing inside a trashy trailer, and talking to the sick, frail figure of a demented old man. And he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had expected this man to be his match. He had planned on battling it out and killing the old man, but that notion had lost its charm when he found that this old man was already dying. It became all the more disappointing when Samson tried to take Sylar's abilities, but failed miserably. And finally, Sylar's disappointment was complete when Samson turned around and begged for death. It was disgusting, and it left Sylar feeling as though the trip was pointless. After resolving to leave Samson in his slow, decaying, dying state, he started to leave.

But he had to know. He had to know if this was it. He stopped. "So, are you it? The last of the pathetic relatives? Is there anymore I should know about."

Samson seemed taken aback by this question. He clearly was not expecting his son to ask such a thing. He thought for a moment. "I'm not sure if she's still alive, but you have a younger sister."

"But you killed my mother."

"Half-sister, to be exact. I remarried after your mother, well you know."

"Let me guess: she met an untimely end as well." Sylar snarled.

"She took something from me." Samson looked away, showing the first genuine emotion Sylar had seen in him. But he recovered too quickly for the emotion to be recognized as anything. "Last I saw, your sister was in London, but, if she's still alive, she's probably gotten back to America by now. Her name is Ayden Gray. At least it was."

Having all he needed, Sylar left. He knew where he could find Ayden, or at least find out where she was. He needed to infiltrate Building 26.

______________________________________________________________________

Ayden had spent all day cleaning and unpacking, and was putting the last touch on her cramped apartment. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small rectangular picture frame. She placed it right where she'd see it most, on her bedside table, and went to get ready for bed. Ayden was starting her new job tomorrow, a cashier at a little electronics store. She wanted to be ready.

The small picture frame held two photos. The first, the larger one, was a black and white portrait of Ayden's mother, holding young Ayden tightly and smiling wide. How Ayden missed that smile. The other, a small shred of a photograph, clearly ripped from a larger one, was of a man, maybe mid-20's, with glasses, smiling. If one were to take the small photo out and look at the scribbled print on its back, they would find out what it read: "My brother, Gabriel." It was from a photo her father had gotten in the mail several years before. She didn't know if it was true, if she really had an older brother somewhere. But she had hope. And that was enough. Maybe she one day she'd find him.


	4. Chapter 4: The Dreams Return

Agent Danko was the man to see in Sylar's mind. He was the man in charge, the man with the same ideals, so to speak, as his self. To hide his ulterior intention for infiltrating Building 26, he had to present another one. One that might be expected of him. Quite plainly, Building 26 was like a restaurant menu, giving names, locations, and descriptions of the abilities of people all over the country. It was, by far, the more believable motive, and the best way to protect Ayden, if she did exist and was still alive. He wanted to find her first. Of course, for all Sylar knew, Samson could have been lying, trying to mess with him, make him weak. But he just had to make sure.

There was no doubt that this man, Danko, could be manipulated by Sylar. Danko saw only the objective, not the means. His objective was to destroy people with abilities, get rid of them completely. He feared them, Sylar could tell. Danko feared him. And he didn't feel comfortable with fear. So if in order to achieve his objective he had to partner with a serial killer, then that's what he would do. Sylar knew this, he could read Danko like a open book. Perfect pick for getting inside Building 26. He just had to play it right.

______________________________________________________________________

It was Ayden's personal opinion that the whole of the human race was ignorant and stupid by nature. This was not to say that one couldn't achieve intelligence. With education and experience one could indeed rise above the chains of ignorance tying them down. However it takes a certain level of stupidity to not aim to seek wisdom and intelligence. The kind of stupidity that she saw more often than not in the human race. As she worked at the little electronics store all day, she saw this more clearly than she had ever seen it in England. How many times would she have to answer questions like "how do I plug the player into the television?" and "how come my laptop won't work?" and "is it bad if my television was dunked into the pool?" to which the answers were "read your instruction book and match the cords," "the battery is dead, plug it in" or "you have a virus, dont download stupid stuff" and "yes it is very bad if your dunk your television in the pool. duh." She remembered a line from the movie "Anger Management": "there are two kinds of angry people - explosive and implosive. Explosive is the type of individual you see screaming at the cashier for not taking his coupon. Implosive is the cashier who remains quiet day after day and then finally shoots everyone in the store. You're the cashier." It had always made her laugh, thinking about it. That could be her someday though. If someone asked her one more time "why isn't it on?" to which the answer usually was "because you have to press the ON button."

God, people can be so stupid sometimes.

Finally the day was over, ending her first week of working at that little store. She slowly trudged up her stairs, tired feet rising after sore legs. When she opened her door, her couch had never seemed so inviting. She fell into its warm embrace and felt herself nodding off.

_Gabriel. Gabriel._

_She saw him, moving in the shadows, so close but still so far. Gabriel. He wasn't there anymore. But he was there. No longer in the shadows. In front of her, staring back at her. But then it wasn't Gabriel, but her father. Gabriel was Samson. No. Not right. Gabriel. Gab-_

She awoke with a start, breathing heavily. The dreams were back, and she didn't know why. She started trying to calm herself, when there was a sudden noise from the kitchen. _Gabriel._


	5. Chapter 5: My Hero

Ayden had awoken from a terrible dream to noises from her kitchen. Cautiously, she arose from the couch and inched her way to the wall. She saw the inturder's reflection in a mirror in the living room. He looked like - but he couldn't be, could he? She looked for a weapon and found a bat - the land lord had insisted she take it in case of danger. Gripping it tightly, she jumped into the kitchen and swung it at his head.

Sylar grabbed the bat before it could make contact and ripped it out of her hands. Ignoring her look of shock and confusion, he mentally pushed her across the room and against the wall. The look on his face was utter determination, and it was a look Ayden had seen before, but she wasn't sure where. It scared her though.

"Who are you?" Sylar demanded of her.

Invisible hands where holding her to the wall, squeezing her throat, not enough to kill her, but enough to make her a little short of breath. She gasped out "Depends. Who are you?"

"Wrong answer." He squeezed tighter. Ayden felt her face going numb and her vision blurring. "Who are you?"

Her lips becoming weak and useless, she managed to push out "What's the right answer then?" Her damned attitude was going to kill her. She knew it and he knew it too. But she was too stubborn to give up without a fight. He picked her up and threw her back against the wall, knocking what little breath she had left out of her.

"You have one more time before you pass out and I kill you. Who are you?"

She couldn't see anymore. She felt her consciousness slipping. Her stubbornness left her in defense of her life, and before she blacked out she whispered "Ayden. Ayden James." Everything went dark.

Sylar dropped her limp form to the ground, and stumbled back. The old man hadn't lied. Ayden existed. She was real, and she was alive. He lifted her body and laid her gently onto her bed, pulling the covers over her. She would wake up with a headache, and a sore throat, but she'd wake up. Before he left, he saw the picture frame on her bedside. He pulled out the little scrap of paper bearing his image and read the text on back. She really was his sister.

Turning to leave, he knew her stubborn "Gray" genes would compel her to pursue him. He wrote out a scrawled note, hoping it would deter her a bit, but knowing it wouldn't help much. He couldn't risk her getting hurt. For whatever reason, he had a compulsion to protect her. This girl he didn't even know, supposedly his little sister, and he had never cared for anything more in his life, even Elle. This thought scared him more than he his self knew. It was that thought that kept him from staying, even though every part of him was demanding otherwise. He locked the door behind him, returning to Building 26 and leaving Ayden alone. Again.

Ayden woke up in less fear than would be expected, but she knew he was gone. She could sense it. All that remained of him in her apartment was a dent in her living room wall, the faint scent of his perfume, and - a note on her bedside table? With shaking hands, she unfolded the scrap of paper.

_Ayden,_

_There's something you have a right to know. I'm not what you're expecting. I'm not the fairytale my father may have led you to believe, and I'm not the hero. You may know me as Gabriel Gray, but the rest of the world knows me differently. My name is Sylar._

_Don't try to find me. And don't do anything stupid. They're watching you. _

Sylar? She knew that name from somewhere. She pulled out her cell and dialed someone she knew could help her. It rang a few times before he answered.

"Johnny? Hey dude, I need some help." Pause. "No, nothing big. It's just you have a computer and internet and I don't. That and something might have come down the press lines that us lowly non-journalists have yet to discover." Laugh, pause. "Yeah, thanks. I'm looking for a person. Name is Sylar." Pause "Really? Mystery suspect?" Pause. "How many?" Pause. "Oh my goodness. Well thanks Johnny. I'll talk to you later. Great article in the NYU paper last week by the way." Pause. "Yeah. Thanks again. Bye."

Sylar was a pseudonym for a mystery suspect in more than 20 unsolved murders. From what Johnny could find, the tops of the victims heads were sawn clean off and removed and their brains were missing. She'd seen a murder like that before. Her brother was a serial killer. Just like her father. Next thing she knew, she was on her knees giving an offering to the toilet gods.

Ayden had never felt more sick in her life.


End file.
